


Children's Card Games

by Misfit_McCoward



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, children's card games, not a true crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misfit_McCoward/pseuds/Misfit_McCoward
Summary: “You can’t quit skating to play children’s card games,” Celestino lectured.(In which the Yu-Gi-Oh trading card game exists and Phichit is very supportive of what is the weirdest direction for Yuuri to take coping with failure. Oh, and Viktor's there.)





	Children's Card Games

**Author's Note:**

> I was disappointed by the lack of YOI/YGO crossovers so I took a few minutes to think of the worst possible thing and wrote it. 
> 
> You're welcome.

“Welp,” Phichit announced to his phone’s camera, “my roommate is back on his bullshit.”

 

He turned the camera to show Yuuri, squatting on the floor with hundreds of trading cards spread around him. He wore a pair of threadbare pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with pasta sauce spilled down it. 

 

“PHICHIT!” Yuuri yelled and threw his body over the cards. “Stop making vines of my depression spiral!”

 

“Make a Yu-Gi-Oh card angel,” Phichit demanded. Yuuri let out a wordless whine and Phichit sighed and pocketed his phone. “I’m not posting anything,” he said. “But I do think it’s worth it to document this fascinating… whatever this is.” 

 

“I like it,” Yuuri defended, crawling off his cards. He’d bent a Beaver Warrior and moved to smooth it out. That was fine; he had six Beaver Warriors. 

 

Phichit had been Yuuri’s roommate for two years, and in those two years he’d had to deal with Yuuri getting out his Yu-Gi-Oh cards and rearranging them for hours every time he felt stressed. Given Yuuri felt stressed almost constantly, Phichit had been privy to this more times than Yuuri liked to admit. 

 

The most recent disaster is Yuuri’s life, however, had really taken the cake for ‘stressful.’ He’d embarrassed himself in front of the entire world plus his idol, and his dog had passed away while he was a continent away and helpless. 

 

Hence the Yu-Gi-Oh! filled depression spiral. 

 

“I think I watched it a little bit as a kid,” Phichit had told him when they’d first moved in together. It’s what most people said when he admitted he still played the game; most people didn’t carry their childhood obsessions this far into adulthood. 

 

It was a  _ fun _ , okay? Yuuri liked collecting cards as a hobby, he liked all the different the strategies, he liked the wide variety of card art, and he had a lot of nostalgia for the show. 

 

It was just… sort of embarrassing. 

 

“Have you ever thought of entering a tournament?” Phichit asked. 

 

“No,” Yuuri answered immediately. He was a public figure and public figures didn’t do things like enter Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments. 

 

“You should,” Phichit said, toeing a stray Flame Manipulator. “You can’t waste your last semester not showering and wallowing in Yu-Gi-Oh cards.”

 

Yuuri whined some more. Phichit had a point, though. Entering a tournament would at least force him to put on actual clothes. 

 

\--

 

The University had an anime club that periodically hosted Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments, and Yuuri was surprised to discover he was actually quite good at the game. He’d played it a lot online, of course, and he a pretty good win ratio, but. Well. Okay, he knew he was good, he just didn’t think he’d win the whole tournament. 

 

“Do you want this?” he said, offering Phichit the ‘five free smoothies’ card he’d won. It was valid only at the university’s worst dining hall. 

 

Phichit snatched the card out of his hand. “Yes. What is your favorite type of smoothie?”

 

Phichit ran to get them smoothies, and Yuuri found himself standing around outside the Applied Sciences building and googling local Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments. He’d have to tweak his deck a bit– a lot of cards had been banned since he’d first started collecting– but he wasn’t taking very many credits this semester and definitely had time to do this…

 

He ended up asking Celestino to drive him to Ann Arbor.

 

“You can’t quit skating to play children’s card games,” Celestino lectured. 

 

“That’s not why I quit,” Yuuri said. 

 

“Tell you what,” Celestino replied. “Come back to practice, and I’ll take you to your card game or whatever.”

 

Yuuri took a bus to Ann Arbor. He won that tournament too. 

 

“Fifty bucks, nice,” Phichit said when Yuuri came home. “You gonna treat me to dinner?”

 

It felt good to win, for once. Yuuri stopped staying up until five in the morning every night and sleeping past noon. 

 

“I’ll start skating again if you drive me to Chicago for spring break,” Yuuri told his coach. Celestino spent the entire five hour drive gesticulating wildly in a rare display of stereotypical Italianism. 

 

“You’re so talented!” he ranted, one hand on the wheel while the other waving around in front of Yuuri’s face. “So what if you messed up one time? You were good enough to qualify! You can’t waste your life on silly games!”

 

Yuuri swept the tournament. Celestino spent the entire time in the hosting hotel’s bar, telling anyone who would listen about how Yu-Gi-Oh was a bad influence on young minds. 

 

Yuuri did not renew his visa to stay in the US. After graduation, he was going home, and he was going to hide from his shameful disaster of a skating career in Hasetsu and eat a lot of katsudon. Maybe Minako would let him help in her dance studio, or he could just take over the resort along with Mari. 

 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t go out with a bang, of course. There was a one week gap between his last final and graduation, and he and Phichit took a flight to New York City. 

 

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t do this last winter break,” Phichit whined. “I wanted to go skating in Rockefeller Center.”

 

They ended up getting Starbucks at Rockefeller Center instead. Phichit bought him his own selfie stick off a random man on the street.

 

Yuuri had an ulterior motive, of course. There was a major, invite-only Yu-Gi-Oh tournament in the city that week. 

 

(Phichit found it hilarious there were invite-only Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments. It was a little silly, Yuuri agreed, but he was also flattered someone had thought to invite him.)

 

The tournament was in an event center in Brooklyn, and there was a handful of stalls selling comic books and merchandise. 

 

“Oh good,” Phichit said, eyeing the short row of vendors. “I’m sure I can figure out a way to spend an entire day here.”

 

He sounded very sarcastic. Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Maybe you’ll find a The King and The Skater fancomic.”

 

“Hmm,” said Phichit, getting out his phone to take his traditional good luck selfie with Yuuri before the games started. “Touché.”

 

Yuuri barely won his first match. The challenge was fun, and he genuinely thanked his opponent. Then his opponent for the next match sat down, and Yuuri nearly had a heart attack. 

 

It was Viktor Nikiforov. 

 

He beamed him and said something that did not register in Yuuri’s brain because Yuuri was sure he was hallucinating. This couldn’t be real. This was just a look alike, who had the same  _ PACHA IBIZA _ T-shirt Viktor had worn in a vlog last month, and the same ondine blue to deep marine gradient eyes, and the same faint Russian accent that came out as the man asked Yuuri to please shuffle his deck. 

 

“Y-yes,” Yuuri said, and dropped the cards all over. 

 

“Woops,” said Defintiely-Could-Not-Be-Viktor-Nikiforov and ducked under the table to pick them up. Yuuri practically fell out of his chair to help. 

 

Yuuri’s hands shook as he shuffled the cards. Not-Vikor asked him if he was feeling alright. Yuuri stood up and craned his neck to see if Phichit was in the room to save him. 

 

“Are you okay?” Not-Viktor asked again. 

 

“I’m looking for a friend,” Yuuri squeaked out. 

 

“Ah,” said Not-Viktor. “You’re nervous. You can call your friend; I don’t mind.”

 

Yuuri looked down at his phone. Phichit had left a million notifications in the wake of an epic adventure to get coffee down the street with a group of people who’d lost in the first round. There were over ten selfies with a girl in cosplay. 

 

“Um,” said Yuuri. 

 

“Hey,” said Not-Viktor, squinting at him. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

 

“Um,” Yuuri repeated. He very carefully slid his deck into place. 

 

“I’m Viktor,” Not-Viktor said, extending his hand. Yuuri stared at it. 

 

“No,” he said. Not-Viktor’s smile faltered. Yuuri cleared his throat and answered, “I’m Yuuri.”

 

With some effort, Not-Viktor’s fixed his smile back into place. “Nice to meet you, Yuuri. Let’s have a splendid match.”

 

Yuuri looked down at his cards. His eyes weren’t focusing correctly and he couldn’t even see them properly. There was no way Viktor Nikiforov was in a Duel Monsters tournament. That didn’t make any sense. He was lauded as one of the greatest skaters of all time, an inspiration to thousands of people. He was in a cereal commercial, for God’s sake. A cereal commercial!

 

Not-Viktor’s deck was fairy-based, which is not what Yuuri had expected. Not that Yuuri had ever thought about what type of deck Viktor Nikiforov might have, because  _ Viktor Nikiforov didn’t play children’s card games _ . 

 

Yuuri lost a lot of life points in the first few turns, making silly mistakes as the background noise of the tournament buzzed in his ears. He wished Phichit would come back and either save him or banish him to the Shadow Realm.

 

Not-Viktor was good. He was really good. He had long, slender fingers that held the cards expertly, and his smile was just as sexy as Actual Viktor Nikiforov. 

 

But… he wasn’t  _ that _ good. Yuuri could definitely beat this imposter, whoever he was. 

 

So he did. 

 

“Oh,” said Not-Viktor, delighted in his own loss. “Thanks for the game.”

 

Not-Viktor stood, grinning broadly at Yuuri, and extended his hand a second time. Yuuri was afraid his legs had been rendered to a consistency too Jell-O like to stand, but he managed it anyway and shook Not-Viktor’s hand. 

 

Not-Viktor left, and Yuuri thought that was that. He lost his next match, and then wandered out of he room to figure out where Phichit had run off to. 

 

Not-Viktor was leaning against the wall in the hallway outside, frowning at his phone. He looked up at Yuuri, dropped the frown, and walked over to him. 

 

His jeans were very form-fitting. Yuuri wanted to go jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. 

 

“Yuuri!” Not-Viktor cried. “Out already? That’s too bad. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

 

Yes, Yuuri was definitely going to go find the Brooklyn Bridge and hurl himself into the water. It would be fine. He’d just float down to Queens and take a cab to JFK and fly back to Japan and skip his graduation and any other event where people might look at him. 

 

Not-Viktor flung his arm over his shoulders and started guiding him out of the event center. Damn. 

 

“Did you ever find your friend?” Not-Viktor asked. 

 

“Um,” said Yuuri, looking uselessly down at his phone. Phichi had sent him the location of some restaurant and note to come meet him for lunch. 

 

Not-Viktor’s arms were pleasantly toned. Yuuri hated every moment of this. 

 

“He wants me to meet him for lunch,” Yuuri said, and then his own mouth betrayed him because he added, “But he’s with other friends, so I’m sure he won’t mind me skipping out.”

 

“I’ve never picked anyone up at a Yu-Gi-Oh event,” Not-Viktor said, obviously pleased. Then he winked and joked, “Is that a duel disk in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

 

Yuuri blinked. “You don’t carry duel disks in your pocket.”

 

_ Stupid, _ he thought, immediately full of regret. Not-Viktor burst into laughter. 

 

They went into the first food place they passed, which happened to be pizza. 

 

“I probably shouldn’t,” Not-Viktor said, squinting at the menu. “My coach has me on a pretty strict diet. But when in Rome, right? Or…  _ In America. _ ”

 

He looked at Yuuri expectantly. Yuuri just stared back at him. Was that… a joke?

 

He didn’t get it, and the lull in conversation was getting awkward, so he cleared his throat and asked, “So you’re an athlete?”

 

“Hmm,” Not-Viktor said, nodding. Instead of elaborating, he started listing his favorite types of pizza. 

 

They ordered at the counter and talked about various topics as they ate. Viktor admitted to getting into Duel Monsters as a result of Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series, which made Yuuri scrunch up his nose. 

 

“Oh my god,” Not-Viktor teased. “Are you a Yu-Gi-Oh purist?”

 

“I just don’t get it,” Yuuri said. 

 

“It’s hilarious,” Not-Viktor said. “ _ Sexy Back _ plays whenever Duke talks.”

 

Yuuri frowned. “Who’s Duke?”

 

It was Not-Viktor’s turn to stare at him. Yuuri fidgeted. 

 

“I grew up in Japan,” he said awkwardly. “So I don’t know the English names.”

 

“Oooh,” said Not-Viktor, nodding. “That makes sense. So do you live here now, or…?”

 

“I go to school in Detroit,” Yuuri said. 

 

The conversation continued to be completely normal, if not a little boring, until Yuuri removed his glasses to clean the lens. 

 

“AHA!” Not-Viktor yelled, pointing at him. “I  _ knew  _ it was you!”

 

Yuuri looked at him, dumbfounded. 

 

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Not-Viktor smirked, “Japan’s Ace. Did you think you could fool me?”

 

Yuuri very quietly stood up, replaced his glasses, and then spirited out of the parlor and down the street to cry to Phichit. 

 

\--

 

Yuuri graduated, packed up his things, and moved home to Hasetsu. The train station was covered in his photos, which was awful, but his family was just as great and loving as ever. 

 

“Ah, Yuuri,” his mother said and they’d all taken turns giving him bear hugs. “You’ve gotten a lot of mail recently.”

 

She’d collected a stack of envelopes for him, and Yuuri opened the first one thinking it was probably just credit card ads or his University already asking for donations. 

 

It was a printed photo of Viktor Nikiforov, posing like a model in front of the damn pizza parlor where they’d gotten lunch. On the back he’d written, “BROOKLYN RAGE!” 

 

Yuuri shoved the photo back into the envelope immediately. What did that mean? Was Viktor making fun off him? How had he gotten his address?

 

Yuuri had to wait a full day before feeling brave enough to open the rest of the envelopes. One of them contained all five Exodia cards and a note that said, “SAY HELLO TO EXODIA.” What did that mean? Had Viktor bought these cards just to make fun off him?

 

He texted Phichit in confused fear. Did Viktor hate him?

 

_ What the hell, _ Phichit wrote back.  _ That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m hunting down his number for you.  _

 

It took about six hours for Phichit to obtain Viktor’s number through the skating world grapevine, and about two weeks for Yuuri to decide what to do with it. Meanwhile, more weird mail kept coming from Viktor. He sent multiple cards with jokes Yuuri didn’t get, and a photo of his dog photoshopped side-by-side with Kuribo. Another envelope a photo of him reclining in a hot tub with a glass of champagne, captioned, _ Screw the rules. I have money.  _

 

Yuuri googled that. Apparently he’d just been getting a bunch of English language Yu-Gi-Oh jokes. Two could play at that game. 

 

\--

 

Viktor was bored. Yakov wanted him to sit on Yuri’s practice because… something about Yuri insisted he’d promised he would choreograph his next program. Which, yes, he’d do that, but did he really have to sit around while Yakov lectured Yuri on better warm-up practices?

 

He’s spent the last hour mindless scrolling through twitter and nearly jumped when his phone buzzed. An unknown number had sent him a video. 

 

His first instinct was to ignore it, but then Yakov started on another lecture and he decided to go ahead and open what was most likely a virus. 

 

The video started with Yuuri Katsuki’s face in full screen, obviously adjusting the camera. Viktor had to pause it to keep himself from screaming with delight. 

 

He looked around. Georgi had left for the day, and Yuri was pouting as Yakov continued to lecture him. Perfect. Viktor pressed play. 

 

It was Yuuri skating to… what was truly a terrible song. It was about… Yu-Gi-Oh. Yuuri did an impressive spin as the song asserted the heart of the cards was where magic was found. 

 

Viktor was nearly crying by the time the routine was done. It was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

 

Yuuri skated back up to the camera and smouldered at it. Or, maybe he was just squinting from the lack of glasses, but Viktor really, really wanted it to be smoulder. 

 

“I’m looking for a new coach,” Yuuri said, “If you want be the Seto Kaiba to my Blue Eyes White Dragon, you know where to find me.”

 

An actual tear fell from Viktor’s eye. He needed to… he needed to leave. Right now. He was completely overwhelmed by this man. 

 

“Vitya!” Yakov snapped as he headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

 

“To buy a sleeveless white trench coat and a flight to Japan,” Viktor answered. 

 

“Is this another one of your stupid youtube things?” Yuri yelled. 

 

Viktor was already gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, complaints? Feel free to leave a comment. :)
> 
> EDIT: The song Yuuri skates to is [this beautiful monstrosity.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eo5Qnr2w-sQ)
> 
> Also, I happened across [Kubo's plot summary for The King and the Skater](https://bonutzuu.wordpress.com/2016/12/04/the-historical-context-of-phichit-chulanonts-the-king-and-the-skater/) and apparently it's about a retired skater who's only joy is a card game that gives him magic powers. So. I have canon support for whatever the hell I just wrote.


End file.
